


The Reason

by QuinTalon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Love Confessions, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 00:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinTalon/pseuds/QuinTalon
Summary: With the war finally over, Hermione returns to Hogwarts to finish her last year. A former enemy returns as well and she just can’t help but notice how different he is. She also can’t help her curiosity over his actions during the war. Draco is not who she always thought he was, and she wants to find out why.A birthday offering for MrsRen.





	The Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to the lovely MrsRen! I hope you have a marvelous day, sweet friend! 💛
> 
> This fic was inspired by the song The Reason by Hoobastank.
> 
> My thanks and love to the amazing NuclearNik for looking this over for me and for all your encouragement. I'm so glad we're friends.
> 
> Disclaimer: Many thanks to JK Rowling for creating an amazing world we love to play in. I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, they just were kind enough to help me tell this story.

* * *

Cold grey eyes met warm brown across the crowded courtroom. Hermione’s breath caught at the intensity of the wizard’s stare and she fidgeted in her seat before his eyes swung back to the Chief Warlock as the final verdict was being read. 

Exonerated. Draco Malfoy was free. 

Hermione was surprised to feel relieved and happy at the news. 

She watched as he bowed his head at the announcement, hands clenched at his side. She could only assume he was trying to contain his emotions, knowing that he was not one to express them openly. Harry stood and pulled her up with him, his hand securely on her elbow as he guided her out of the witness section they had been seated in.

Her eyes met Malfoy’s once more and she felt a momentary wave of panic when he determinedly stood and walked towards them. He stopped a few feet away and cleared this throat. He shuffled his feet for a few moments before speaking, his voice shaking slightly.

“Potter. I don’t know why you did it, but I-I appreciate you speaking for me and my mother. Your testimony saved her from Azkaban and I cannot express my relief that she was spared from that.” He slowly raised his hand towards Harry. “Thank you.”

Hermione watched Harry’s eyebrows fly into his hairline, his green eyes wide as they dropped down to Malfoy’s extended hand. He hesitated only a moment before clasping hands with his former school nemesis and mumbled, “You’re welcome, Malfoy.”

Malfoy nodded and then turned towards Hermione. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly pressed his lips together. His eyes dropped to the floor and she heard him sigh. He glanced back at Harry before stepping away, heading towards the door. As he passed her though, he gently wrapped his hand around hers and rasped out, “Thank you, Gra—Hermione.” He squeezed her hand once before letting go and hurrying away. She watched until he was lost in the sea of plum-colored robes of the exiting Wizangamot members.

* * *

She did not see him again until boarding the Hogwarts Express for her final year of school. She knew he would be returning, but was still surprised to see him seated alone in a compartment. He was stretched out on the seat, arms crossed, staring out the window at the families on the platform. 

Biting her bottom lip, she looked up and down the corridor, trying to weigh her options. All the other compartments were full and she did not want to sit with any of the awe-struck students she had made her way through earlier.

She hesitated for a moment before opening the door slowly. The soft thump of it closing drew his attention. She looked at him from under her eyelashes and saw his eyes grow wide as he looked at her. She noticed a faint pink spread across his cheeks before he greeted her with a simple, “Granger.”

“Hello, Malfoy. I hope you don’t mind—W-would it be alright if I shared the compartment with you?”

Pale eyebrows rose at her request. Feeling the need to explain, she rushed out, “Only, I’m riding alone this trip. Harry and Ron aren’t coming back to Hogwarts. They’re starting Auror training next month. And Ginny was elected Head Girl, so she’ll be busy. I-I just thought… Maybe you wouldn’t mind… I’ll be quiet, I promise! I’ll read and won’t bother you at all and—”

“It’s fine, Granger. Please have a seat and stop rambling.” He drawled, waving his hand to indicate the seat across from him.

She let out a breath and moved to sit. “Thank you,” she mumbled, pulling out a book to occupy her, as well as serve as a shield to hide behind.

She heard a whispered, “You’re welcome,” that brought a soft smile to her lips.

They passed the trip in silence, only speaking when the trolley witch came by. When they arrived at Hogsmeade station, Malfoy stood and held the compartment door open for her. She murmured her thanks as she passed him, noting his eyes following her as she exited the train.

* * *

The first few weeks of term passed quickly for Hermione. She lost herself in lessons and homework, reveling in the structured schedule she had missed, spending hours in the library or common room studying and reading, keeping herself busy. Keeping herself from feeling the loneliness she knew would settle in. Returning without Harry and Ron had been harder than she expected. But Ginny was kind enough to spend time with her when she could, despite both witches having busy schedules. 

She was currently curled up in an armchair in front of the fireplace in the common room of the dorm designated for the returning Eighth Year students, as they had come to be called. It was nice to be away from the chaotic Gryffindor tower, though she missed it at times. Hermione liked the new common room, located in an unused corridor on the fourth floor. It was warm and inviting with a lot of natural light coming in from the windows that afforded a view of the Black Lake and Forbidden Forest. There were comfortable sofas and chairs, desks to study at, and plenty of room to stretch out. It was much larger than the other common rooms, from what she gathered. She looked around it now, lifting her head from the book she had been engrossed in, noticing there was only one other student in the room. 

She was not surprised. It was Saturday afternoon and everyone else was in Hogsmeade. She had chosen to stay behind, not in the mood to be in the busy village. It appeared Malfoy was of the same mind. She studied him from the corner of her eye as he bent over a nearby desk, quill scratching over parchment as he worked on what looked to be a Charms essay. He had been quiet this year, keeping to himself. Very few Slytherins in their year returned—Nott, Zabini, Parkinson, and Goyle all opting to transfer to other schools or dropping out all together—and those that return did kept their distance from him. Whether that was his doing or theirs, she didn’t know. 

As if he felt her eyes on him, Malfoy turned his head towards her and shifted in his chair. He looked away quickly, but then darted his eyes back to her. He dipped his head slightly in a small nod before focusing back on his work. Hermione could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks at being caught looking at him. She dropped her eyes back to the book in her lap and didn’t dare look up again until a group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws made their way into the room an hour later. 

She flicked her eyes back over to Malfoy one last time as she gathered her things to head up to her room. She caught his eye as she stood and she almost missed a step. She must have been seeing things because for just a second, Hermione could have sworn Malfoy’s lips turned up in a small smile. 

A smile directed at her.

* * *

A week later, Hermione was seated at her favorite table in the library, books and parchment spread out on the aged wood in front of her. She was struggling with the translation for her Ancient Runes project, her frustration rising. She referenced the textbook again but still could not find the correct translation. With a sigh, she stood and walked over to the Runes section, intent on finding another book to use for the assignment. She stepped quickly, knowing exactly which shelf to search. Her eyes ran over the titles, looking for the specific book she needed, but it was not there. She searched the shelves above and below in case it had been misshelved, but had no luck. Another student must have checked it out. Annoyed, but determined to put in a request with Madam Pince to be notified when the book was returned, Hermione stalked back to her table.

As she approached, she noticed Malfoy seated a few tables away, holding a book that looked very similar to the one she needed. She took a few steps closer, squinting her eyes to read the title on the cover. She bit her lip when she confirmed it was indeed the book. She hesitated only a moment before stepping quietly to stand in front of him.

“Excuse me, Malfoy,” she whispered.

Malfoy looked at her from behind the book for a moment before lowering it. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your studying, but would you mind letting me know when you are done with that book?”

He tilted his head as he looked at her. “For your Runes project? I’m using it for mine too.” He dropped his eyes to the parchment in front of him. “Give me… an hour or so.”

She nodded at him with a smile. “Thank you. I’m just over there.” She pointed to the table covered with her things.

Malfoy leaned to the side to look around her. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just shy of being a smirk. “Yes, I see that.”

Hermione’s first instinct was to snipe back at him, like she would have before the war. But she noticed that there was no malice in his tone, no disdain. In fact, had it been anyone else, she would have taken it as friendly teasing. But this was Draco Malfoy. Did he even know how to do that? 

“I’ll bring it when I’m done.” Malfoy’s voice brought her out of her musings.

“Oh. Yes, thank you,” she mumbled as she turned back to her table.

An hour later, just as promised, Malfoy placed the book beside Hermione, his pale hand almost brushing her arm as he stepped away. She called after him before he turned down the aisle towards the exit.

“Thank you.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. “You’re welcome, Granger.”

This time Hermione was certain. She clearly saw a small smile grace his face as he rounded the corner.

* * *

It was Halloween. 

Normally, Hermione looked forward to the holiday. She loved seeing the Great Hall decorated for the feast, the floating pumpkins and candles, the tables laden with savory dishes and sweet treats, the resident ghosts gliding among the students.

But this year, she wanted to be alone. She wasn’t in the mood for the noise, the loud, boisterous roar of over-excited teenagers. For once, she wanted a quiet Halloween. No trolls, no ancient chambers being opened, no escaped criminals, and no life or death situations. So, instead of joining the others in the Great Hall, she had snuck down to the kitchens and asked the elves for a sandwich. Which means, of course, that she came away with a basketful of food filled to the brim with more than she could possibly eat and several bottles of pumpkin juice. 

She set the basket on a small table beside her preferred fireside chair in the common room and nestled down into the cushions, wrapping a blanket around her legs. She planned to spend the next few hours munching on the food the elves provided and reading a new novel she had gotten on her last trip to Hogsmeade.

She had just finished chapter three when the common room door opened and the tall form of Malfoy sauntered into the room. He paused for a moment before stepping towards her. “Good evening, Granger. I didn’t expect anyone to be here tonight. Not going to the feast?”

“No. I wanted a quiet night. You?”

He shook his head. “The same. Wasn’t in the mood for it either.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

He started to turn when Hermione acted on impulse, the words coming out in a rush. “I have some food from the kitchens. Quite a bit, actually. If you haven’t eaten, you’re welcome to some.”

“Oh, er, that would be nice. Thanks.”

He reached into the basket and grabbed whatever was on top, and once again turned to leave.

“You’re—You’re welcome to join me. If you’d like.” Hermione gestured to the chair next to her.

Malfoy studied her to a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

He took a seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. They sat in silence for a few moments before Hermione spoke up.

“I have pumpkin juice as well.” She grabbed a bottle and leaned forward to hand it to him. 

Their fingers brushed as he took the offered bottle, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He nodded his thanks with a quick dip of his head, the tips of his ears turning a pale pink.

“So, uh, what are you reading?” 

Her eyebrows rose slightly at the question, she had not expected him to attempt to chat. “Oh, just a new novel I picked up.”

“What’s it about?”

She tilted her head as she looked at him, surprised. No one ever wanted to hear about the books she was reading. She was known to go on once she started and her friends had stopped asking years ago. “You really want to know?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I asked, didn’t I?”

Why, yes he did. She grinned as she began to explain the plot.

Hours later, the two were still talking. They had moved to the floor, sitting on pillows with food and drinks spread out around them. Hermione was very pleasantly surprised to learn that Malfoy read almost as much as she did. His love of literature impressed her, and they discussed some of their favorite books and authors, debated over different genres, and even shared a laugh or two. Their conversation turned to different topics as the other Eighth Years began trickling in from the feast, heading to their rooms for the night. Neither of them paid any attention to the strange looks they received as they talked in front of the fire.

The common room had been empty again for at least an hour, as the conversation slowed. Hermione was leaning back on her hands, feeling relaxed in the companionable silence. She had enjoyed herself tonight, much more than she ever thought would be possible with Malfoy. She had always known he was intelligent and a good student, but he was also witty and snarky in a way she appreciated. She found that she liked this Malfoy she’d spent the evening with. He was so different to what she had always known. 

She thought back on her interactions with him since the start of the year, then further back to the start of the war. He’d changed. She didn’t know exactly when it started, but she was sure the signs were there as far back as sixth year. She bit her bottom lip as she studied his profile, his focus on the fire as the flames danced, casting shadows across his face. The moment felt surreal. She was sitting comfortably next to Draco Malfoy after spending hours in conversation with him. Engaging conversation, with not one harsh or hateful word exchanged between the two. Not something she ever thought would happen. 

The boy—no, the  _ man _ —sitting next to her intrigued her. They had never spoken about the war, nobody really did. But she knew they both had been through more than most of the returning students. She also knew that despite being on the other side of the battle lines, he had clearly not believed in the cause fully. Because he had helped them, helped  _ her _ .

It had been on her mind for months, but she pushed it to the side, not wanting to remember. Now, she was suddenly overcome with curiosity, with the need to know  _ why _ . The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them.

“Why did you do it, Malfoy?”

He turned his head towards her, blinking slowly. “Do what?”

“Why didn’t you identify us? That day.”

Malfoy’s face paled, all the color draining in an instant. She didn’t need to clarify. He knew exactly what she was talking about. A day they both wished they could forget, but knew they never would.

The day Harry, Ron, and Hermione were brought to Malfoy Manor. 

The day Hermione was tortured.

He swallowed roughly and stumbled over his words. “But, I did. I-I said it was you. I-”

“No,” she interrupted. “No, you said ‘maybe, yeah, it could be, I can’t be sure, I don’t know.’ That was the most reluctant admittance I’ve ever witnessed, Malfoy. You couldn’t even look at us. Yet you knew it was us, I know that you recognized us, how could you not? But you never once said, ‘yes, that’s Harry Potter’ or ‘that’s Ron Weasely.’ You never said, ‘yes, that  _ is _ Hermione Granger.’ Your parents identified me, but you never did. Why?”

Malfoy shook his head, panic flashing in his eyes. “I—I don’t…”

She pressed on, the need to know feeling urgent, her voice growing softer with each word until it was just a whisper. “Harry told me… He said it was like you  _ shoved _ the wands into his hands. Like you just made it look like you struggled with him. And… and I saw you. At the final battle. I saw what you did. You saved me.”

Her mind flashed back to that night, to the moment she was sure she had lost and was about to die. She had been dueling a Death Eater when she stumbled over some rubble and lost her footing. Her masked enemy took advantage of her momentary weakness and disarmed her with a flick of his wand. He laughed cruelly as he stood over her, hand raised to cast the final blow. Before the first syllable of the killing curse had left his lips, he was hit with a stunning spell from behind. Hermione lunged for her wand, spinning as she heard a voice from the shadows call out the Incarcerous spell, binding the Death Eater at her feet. She only saw a glimpse of her saviour before he withdrew further down the darkened corridor, but she knew who it was. 

“You saw?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. He looked so panicked at that moment, so full of guilt, so… broken. 

Hermione nodded and lifted her arm to reach out to him. A vague idea of needing to comfort him made its way to the front of her mind. She gently laid her hand on his forearm and asked again, “Why?”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out loudly. His eyes went wide, looking as surprised as she felt. Malfoy cleared his throat and cast his eyes to the side. “I’m sorry for how I treated you, for all the things I said to you, for the times I taunted and teased you. I’m sorry for all the times I hurt you, even though you never let it show. I knew. I saw how that light in your eyes faded when you looked at me. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you didn’t belong, that you weren’t good enough to be here, that you were beneath me. Because it’s not true. You  _ do _ belong here, Granger. You are the smartest witch I know and one of the strongest. I’ve always seen that, even if I wouldn’t admit it.” 

He ran a hand through his hair as his voice dropped. “And I’m sorry for what happened in my home. For what my aunt did to you.” His eyes met hers and she could see pain, remorse, and guilt in them. “Granger… Hermione. I am so sorry for being a coward and not stopping her. I will never forgive myself for not stepping in and saving you. I should have. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. I—I should have been the one to save you.” 

He stood suddenly, causing her hand to fall from his arm, leaving her off balance for a moment as he choked out, “I’m so sorry.” He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, the door to his dorm slamming shut seconds later, leaving a stunned and speechless Hermione in his wake.

* * *

Hermione was confused and frustrated. After her evening with Malfoy on Halloween, he had been avoiding her. He didn’t outright ignore her as they still interacted when necessary in class, but she could never find him after hours or at meals and he headed straight to his room whenever he came back to the Eighth Year dorm. 

It had been two weeks, and she was done waiting for him. She wanted to talk with him again, needed to finish the conversation. She finally managed to find him in a dark corner of the library one evening. She stepped up to the table, arms crossed.

“Hello.”

He greeted her with his typical nod and a whispered, “Granger.”

“May I speak with you?”

His eyes darted around as if looking for an exit before falling back on her. Voice resigned, he muttered a simple, “Okay.”

He waved his hand towards the seat across from him in an invitation to sit.

She pulled the chair out and sat primly, flicking her wand over her shoulder to cast a quick Muffliato, before setting it in front of her and clasping her hands on the table. She tilted her head as she stated, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I… Yes,” he said with a sigh.

“Why? Did I… Did I do something? I thought, maybe after Halloween…” She trailed off, not quite sure how to explain just what she thought. She shook her head. “I just wanted to thank you.”

He sat stiffly in his chair, his brow furrowed and hands clenched. “Thank me?”

“Yes. As strange as it sounds, I actually enjoyed talking with you that night. I found I’m rather glad you decided to sit. So, thank you for one of the more engaging conversations I’ve had in a long time.” She drew in a shaky breath before she continued. “But more importantly, I wanted to thank you for... what you said… at the end. I know what you shared must have been difficult for you, and I just wanted to say that I appreciate and accept your apology.”

His mouth hung open for a moment. “You appreciate and accept… Seriously? You appreciate that humiliating, rambling word vomit I subjected you to?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Well, I wouldn’t quite describe it like  _ that _ , but yes. I appreciate it because it was genuine. It wasn’t a forced apology because you felt it was expected of you, it was heartfelt. You meant every word you said. Didn’t you?”

Malfoy closed his eyes and swallowed. “I did.”

Hermione reached across the table and wrapped her hand around one of his fists. “That’s why I accept it.” She squeezed his hand once before letting go. “Malfoy, look at me.”

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, blinking as he focused on her. She leaned forward, keeping eye contact with him. “I forgive you.”

She heard his breath hitch and saw his chest rise as the words washed over him. And if she noticed a glassiness to his eyes, she would never say.

“I don’t deserve… I don’t know how…” He shook his head in awe and shock.

  
  


“It doesn’t matter what you think you deserve, you know. I’m allowed to forgive you if I want and I’ve chosen to do so,” she replied with a shrug. “So, what do you say to a truce of sorts? We managed to spend an entire evening in each other’s company with no casualties and I’d like to see if that’s something we can repeat. Are you in agreement?” 

She reached out a hand to him, wiggling her fingers when he just stared at it. He slowly lifted his hand and gently clasped hers, his unblinking eyes focused on her as they shook in agreement. Releasing his hand with a smile, Hermione opened her bag and pulled out her Potions book along with some parchment. “Now, I have some homework to finish. Do you mind if I share the table with you?”

Malfoy continued to stare at her, seemingly not comprehending her words. Hermione chuckled. “Malfoy—Actually, you know what? Draco. I think I’d like to call you Draco now, if that’s alright with you?”

Draco numbly nodded his head, his expression unchanged.

Hermione smiled brightly at him. “And you can call me Hermione, if you want. Right. Now, Draco. Have you worked on the Potions essay yet?”

Draco blinked a few times before looking down at the work in front of him. He shook his head, cleared his throat and rasped out, “Uh, no. I was just about to start on it.”

“Excellent. Let’s work on it together, shall we?”

“Sure. Okay. Let’s do that.” The words came in a drawn out monotone.

Draco narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he watched Hermione set up her work area, arranging her things just so. “Granger, er, I mean Hermione?” He waited until she lifted her head to look at him. “What just happened?”

“Well, despite the lack of flying pigs or an ice storm in Hades, I think we just became friends. Or at least, we made the first steps.”

Hermione watched as his lips spread into a full-on, real, non-smirky smile. One that she couldn’t help but return.

She decided then that smiling was a good look on Draco. A  _ very _ good look.

* * *

Their friendship grew quickly after that day in the library. They continued to study together, both relishing having a study partner that could keep up with them. The two were often found in the library seated beside each other at what Hermione used to refer to as  _ her _ table, but now it was  _ theirs _ . When they weren’t studying, they were talking. She found that Draco was a great conversationalist. Their conversations could last for hours. It was thrilling to have a friend who not only matched her intellect, but who also enjoyed debating various topics with her. She loved Harry and Ron, but debate they could not. Their attempts usually ended up in an argument.

The days passed swiftly and soon Christmas was upon them. Both Hermione and Draco decided to spend the majority of the holiday at Hogwarts, only leaving to spend Christmas day at the Burrow and Malfoy Manor respectively. 

Hermione and Draco spent every moment together during the holiday. The handful of students remaining at Hogwarts watched in perplexed awe as they witnessed the Gryffindor Princess and Slytherin Prince laughing and shouting as they played in the snow one wintry afternoon a few days to Christmas—dodging each other’s snowballs, making snow angels, and finally building a snow fort. They were later found drinking hot cocoa in front of the fire in the Great Hall, cheeks bright pink from the cold. It was a sight few would believe.

The two exchanged small gifts Christmas Eve before departing to spend the following day with their family and friends. Hermione was delightfully surprised by the thoughtful gift Draco had gotten for her, a pair of lovely self-inking quills and a beautiful gold and red bookmark embossed with her initials. Draco seemed equally delighted by the small collection of books Hermione gifted him, each one a favorite of hers, all by Muggle authors. 

They beamed at each other as he looked up from the books and without thinking, Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco in a hug as she thanked him for the gift. He hesitated before returning the hug, his arms pulling her in closer for a moment. He was warm and comfortable and smelled amazing. Hermione was reluctant to let go. She grinned shyly at him as she pulled away, not quite sure what that look on his face meant.

She left for the Burrow shortly after that, and didn’t see him again until the afternoon of Boxing Day. When he walked into the common room and grinned happily at her, Hermione was struck by the fact that she had missed him. It had only been one day, but Merlin, she had missed him. She didn’t want to think too long on the reason why.

* * *

As winter melted into spring, Hermione’s relationship with Draco blossomed into a close friendship. She now considered him one of her best friends. They spent all their time together, sitting together in shared classes, alternating eating at each other’s House table during meals, studying in the library, and staying up late talking in the common room. While Hermione enjoyed his company, she still found herself surprised by the change in him. It plagued her. What could have caused such a shift in his attitude towards her? She knew that the war played a part, everyone was changed by it. But she just felt there was  _ more _ . She couldn’t shake the memory of his pale face looking sicken when he saw them at the Manor, and the anger in his voice when he stunned the Death Eater during the battle. 

By mid-March, Hermione had worked up the nerve to once again ask Draco  _ why _ . It was a rare warm day and the pair were seated under a tree by the Black Lake. He merely looked at her with a sad smile before muttering, “I had my reasons. Maybe one day I’ll be able to explain. But, I’m sorry, today is not that day.”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Hermione ran her fingers nervously over the spines of the books in front of her. She’d been patient, but couldn’t keep her curiosity in check any longer. She’d waited months for him to finally tell her. Exams were done and graduation was only days away. She had to know. 

“Draco, will you tell me now? Why you didn’t identify us at your manor. Why you saved me. Why you’ve been so different this year.”

Draco raised his eyes from the page he was reading, his gaze soft as he looked at her. “I found a reason to become a better person, to do more with my life, to move beyond my upbringing and my mistakes.”

“That... that’s amazing. Not everyone finds something like that. A reason to change. Or the strength to do so.” She paused with a tilt of her head. “May I ask... What was it?”

“You,” he whispered.

“What?”

He sat taller in his chair, clearing his throat roughly as he straightened his tie. With a determined set of his jaw, he met her eyes and spoke clearly. “The reason is  _ you _ .”

She choked as she tried and failed to pull in a lungful of air. “I… You...” 

A book being dropped drew her attention to a few other students nearby. Hermione quickly stood from her chair and stepped around the table. Grabbing Draco’s wrist, she pulled him to stand. “Come with me.”

Eyes wide and face pale, he nodded.

She spun on her heel and dragged him from the library, heading to the closest empty classroom. Once inside, she closed the door, locking it and casting Muffliato. She let go of Draco’s wrist and he immediately took a few steps away from her.

She took a deep breath before turning and meeting his eyes, her body stiff. “Is this a joke?”

Draco shook his head. “No.”

“A bet or-or a dare or something?”

He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, obviously offended. “No.”

She relaxed and leaned against the door. “Please explain.”

He studied her for a moment before running a hand through his hair and sighing. “I…” He cursed under his breath and began to pace. “Merlin, this is harder than I…” He ran his fingers through his mussed up hair once again.

If Hermione were not so intensely curious and feeling as if her life were about to turn on its head, she would have giggled at the sight of a nervous, muttering Draco Malfoy. She had never seen him so flustered. It was quite  _ intriguing _ . 

He stopped pacing and faced her once more, standing rigidly as he seemed to steel himself. “Shite. Okay. This is a bit of a story. Can you—Will you please listen and let me get through this before you ask the questions I know you’ll have? And, maybe, not hex me?” His eyes darted between hers as he waited for her to respond.

She swallowed and slowly nodded, noting how he visibly relaxed. He let out a long breath and nodded to himself.

“Right. Thank you.” He cleared his throat and bounced on the balls of his feet. “When we met, first year on the train, I was… drawn to you. You were so friendly and commanding attention with your hair and know-it-all attitude. I don’t know if you remember, but you came into our compartment asking if we’d seen someone’s pet. Most of my friends sneered at you, but I… well, I wanted to follow and help you look.” He huffed a laugh and shrugged.

“I know, not what you’d expect of me at the time. But, even then, there was just something about you… I was disappointed when we were sorted into different houses, and then angry when I found out you were Muggle-born. I wanted us to be friends. But with my father… Well, you know.” He smiled at her sadly.

“When you became friends with Potter and Weasley, I was jealous. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t have what I wanted so I became the perfect little Slytherin and Malfoy heir, and I focused my jealousy and anger towards the three of you. I’m not proud of the way I acted, you know that, but at the time it seemed the only way. I thought I was doing so well, until that day in third year.” 

Hermione couldn’t help herself, she smirked as she proudly stated, “I hit you.”

Draco huffed a laugh. “Yes. Yes, you did. And Merlin, it hurt. You’re strong for such a little thing.” He held his hands up as she glared at him. “Just being honest here, Hermione. So, after that vicious attack upon my person, well deserved though it was, I had to act like I hated you even more. Though, in truth, I respected the hell out of you for that. You stood up for what you thought was right and left me with a painful reminder that what I had done was wrong. Then things… shifted in fourth year.” 

He paused and pressed his lips together, his eyes unfocused as he recalled a memory. “You were stunning at the Yule Ball, did you know that?” His eyes swung to meet hers again as the tips of his ears grew red. “That was when I realized that,” he cleared his throat, “well, that you are bloody gorgeous and I was very much attracted to you.” He ran a hand through his hair once more, his cheeks slowing redding to match his ears.

Hermione could feel the heat of her cheeks as she fought off her own blush. She knew she was staring at him with wide eyes, but she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I forced myself to ignore my growing attraction to you the rest of that year and all through fifth. Then, my father was sent to Azkaban, and I allowed myself the briefest moment to think just maybe… But that didn’t last. Because when I went home for the summer, a monster was living in my house and I was forced to join him.” He gripped his left forearm, a look of disgust and anger marring his features. He shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“Sixth year was hell. You know what happened, what I did. I was at my lowest then, convinced I would not survive the year, hating myself for what I was doing. I was ready to just give up. But then one day, just before the Christmas hols, I saw you looking at me. I know Potter had been watching me, and that you did too at times, but this time… this time it was like you saw  _ me _ for just a moment. Not Malfoy the prat and bully, not the mask I wore for everyone, but Draco, the person I was underneath. That moment probably meant nothing to you, and you may not even remember it, but to me… to me it changed everything. In that moment, I finally allowed myself to do what I had been fighting for ages. I allowed myself to fall.”

Hermione could not hold in the gasp that escaped her lips. He couldn’t mean…

“You became the one point of light in my dark, miserable life. You gave me hope, even though you had no clue.” He stepped closer to her, his eyes boring into hers. “I know you visited me when I was in the hospital after that fight with Potter. I was just waking when you came in and I was scared you would leave if you knew I was awake so I pretended to be asleep, I’m embarrassed to say. My heart was pounding so hard I’m surprised you didn’t hear it. When you whispered that you were sorry, that I didn’t deserve what happened, I couldn’t believe it. And then you brushed the hair back from my face, so gently. Merlin, Hermione. I wanted to pull you into my arms and never let you go. But I couldn’t. You were so kind, so forgiving, so  _ good _ . While I was cruel, hateful, and on the side of evil. You deserved someone so much better than me. That’s when I decided I needed to change. That I  _ wanted _ to change. I knew I would never have a chance with you, but I still wanted to be a man worthy of you.”

He took a shuddering breath as he stepped closer still. “That’s why. Why I tried to not identify you that day, why I protected you as much as I could during the final battle, why I was so glad you sat with me on the train. Why I spent this year trying to show you a side of me you’ve never seen before, the side of me I always wanted you to see.”

Another step. Then another.

“Hermione.” He was now within arms reach of her. “I-I care about you, very much. I may even love you, and  _ bollocks _ , I’ve scared you, haven’t I? I’m sorry. I just… I am so honored to call you my friend now, my best friend in fact, and it’s more than I deserve, really. More than I ever dreamed of, let alone hoped for. I mean, of course, I  _ hoped _ for more. Obviously. But I would never expect you—”

Hermione had heard enough. She raised up on her toes, wrapping both arms around his neck as she yanked him closer, and pressed her lips to his. She heard the surprised grunt from the back of his throat turn into a growl as she leaned into him. The arms that had been stiff at his sides were now clutching her tighter to him, one hand pressed against her lower back as the other slid into her hair holding the back of her head. They lost themselves in the kiss and Draco chased her lips when she finally pulled away.

“Hermione, wha—”

“You were rambling Draco, so I shut you up. With my lips.”

He pressed his forehead against hers as he chuckled. “Yes, well. Please feel free to do that anytime, rambling or no.” He pulled back so he could look into her eyes. “I mean, if this is something you want to do again.”

Hermione could hear the hopeful yet hesitant tone in his voice, his words carrying a thousand unasked questions. She grinned at him. “I absolutely want to do that again.”

He leaned down with a smirk, intent on fulfilling her wish but was stopped by a gentle push on his chest. 

“Draco, I think I should confess as well. I need you to know that I care about you too, so much. I-I’ve been falling for you all year I think. But, the first little spark of it… well, believe it or not I  _ do _ remember that day in sixth year you mentioned. That  _ moment _ . I had been watching you, like you said, and then you looked up and our eyes locked and it was like…” She shook her head with a small shrug, unable to find the words to describe what she had felt in that moment. How she somehow felt a connection with him, despite their animosity towards each other and their opposing sides in the looming war, how somehow it seemed time had stopped for just a moment and it was only the two of them. Two scared teenagers who finally, truly saw each other. 

“That day I noticed how ill you looked and how on edge you were. I started watching you more often, and not for Harry. I-I became worried for you. You rarely ate and it looked like you never slept. I knew you would never accept my help so… um, I used to send Dobby to leave snacks in your dorm, and sometimes notes for any classes you missed.”

“That was you? I always assumed it was Pansy or Theo, maybe Blaise. They never mentioned it and I never asked.”

Hermione bit her bottom lip, blushing as she nodded. “Um, yeah. That was me. I just couldn’t watch you wasting away and not do something. And when I heard what happened when you fought Harry… I had no idea you knew I was there that night in the hospital. I just… I had to make sure you were okay. I was so angry with Harry. I yelled at him when I found out.”

Draco pulled her into a hug, dropping a kiss onto her curls. “You’re amazing, you know that? I’m the luckiest bastard alive, having a witch like you in my life.”

“About time you realized it, too.”

Hermione relished in the rumble she heard and felt as she nuzzled closer to his chest while he laughed. He had the most brilliant laugh and she loved that she was deemed worthy of hearing it. He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, a wide smile on his face.

“Oh, I realized it long ago, you cheeky witch. I’m just finally brave enough to tell you.” 

He leaned back in, placing a soft kiss on her lips before resting his forehead against hers once more. In a soft voice, just above a whisper, he asked, “Hermione, are you willing to give this a try? Us, I mean. Do you think you could give me a chance to be the kind of man that you deserve? I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy, to make you proud. You’ve changed my life, made me happier than I ever had a right to be. Please, let me try to do that for you. I hate that I used to make you angry, make you cry. I’d give anything now to be the reason you smile.”

Hermione nodded as she pulled him down for another kiss, her heart racing as they were both swept up in the moment, reeling at the heady feeling that this was the beginning of something life-altering and wonderful. “I would be honored,” she murmured against his lips as they broke the kiss.

The resulting smile that lit up Draco’s face would be a sight she never forgot. 

He beamed. A smile so bright, so unreservedly joyous. It was breathtaking,  _ he _ was breathtaking. 

At the sight, Hermione felt everything fall into place as allowed herself to tumble head-over-heels for him, finally taking that last step from fancy and fondness to love. 

As Draco wrapped his hand securely in hers, intertwining their fingers and leading her back to the library with his head held high, she knew. He claimed that she was the reason he became the man she fell in love with, the reason he was so changed. 

Hermione may well be Draco’s reason, but—somehow, somewhere along the way, so quietly she didn’t see it until now—he had become hers.

  
  
  



End file.
